


Wicked Wizards

by psiphifan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Angst and Porn, Bath Sex, Dating, F/M, Legilimency, Legilimens, Margaritas, Masturbation, Occlumency, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pining Draco Malfoy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Frustration, Sexy Draco Malfoy, Slightly Out Of Character, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-07-05 03:13:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15855066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psiphifan/pseuds/psiphifan
Summary: Hermione and Ginny are having a girls night with too many muggle margaritas when Ginny brings out a magazine with mostly naked wizards including their former arch nemesis Draco Malfoy. Hermione can't help but feel attracted to the nearly nude Malfoy and masturbates to the magazine picture of him only to receive a mysterious letter hours later that says, "I saw what you did this morning - D.M." (Three guesses whose initials those are! This story starts out a bit sexy but will include smut in later chapters.)Please leave reviews, they are much appreciated! Thanks!





	1. I saw what you did

“Come on, Hermione! Live a little!” Ginny was urging her to look at the dirty magazine she’d picked up for their girls’ night. They’d made frozen margaritas, a Muggle drink that Ginny said the wizarding world should definitely adopt.

“Oh, Gin! All those floosie, airheaded girls look at those. I hear they’re even more lewd than the Muggle version because the pictures move!”

“Hermione, you’re 20, you’re gorgeous and smart, and you’ve only been with my soft-headed brother! If you’re not gonna get out there to date, you might as well see what’s out there.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but relented. “Fine, fine, let me see that!” She blushed upon seeing Viktor Krum on the cover of Wicked Wizards. The Bulgarian wasn’t wearing a shirt, only Quidditch shorts and held a quaffle above his head. His muscles bulged as the picture flexed on a loop.

“So you never.... with him?” Ginny pried. Hermione shook her head.

“It was a very innocent crush, Gin.” She sighed a flipped to a random page. A second later, she thought her jaw had dropped clean to the floor.

There, on the centerfold, was Draco Malfoy. Platinum blonde hair sticking out haphazardly like a witch had run her hands through it, lying prone on a luxurious bed covered with silk cushions; he was completely naked besides a thin pair of briefs -- that left little of his package to the imagination -- with a golden snitch embroidered on the crotch.

When she saw the picture move, her mouth went dry. The smirk he was giving the camera was the same one Hermione saw a million times at Hogwarts, except now it was suggestive and lewd. Especially since one of his thumbs pulled the fabric down on the right side of the briefs to reveal his hip bone and the rest of the v-line of the muscle running right down to his… Hermione swallowed with difficulty.

She shifted in her silk pajama shorts but the fabric slid against her skin and gave little friction to the area that was throbbing. Ginny had luckily gone to refill their drinks so she didn’t see Hermione’s inappropriate reaction to her long-time bully cum Death Eater cum Quidditch agent.

While Ginny was still occupied, Hermione found herself admiring his torso. His lean muscles looked like they were carved from white marble except for the silvery scar that was barely visible running diagonally across his chest. Sectumsempra. A shudder ran through her.

Ginny returned and Hermione hastily flipped to another page with text on it. She took a large gulp of the margarita, which seemed to temporarily cool the burning in her veins. Perhaps Ginny was right, perhaps she really did need to get back out there.

“Leave it to you to seek out the articles in a nudy magazine!” Ginny nudged her. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Be nice! I was just about to ask you to set me up with someone this week.” Ginny nearly tackled her at that.

“Seriously!? I’ve just got to narrow down my list now….” Hermione ignored her as she tried to flip through the magazine and not land on the page with Malfoy. “Maybe we should just go to a professional Quidditch game?” Ginny suggested, scanning the magazine with all the potential attractive wizards.

“Really, Gin? I mean, you know I’m not the biggest fan of Quidditch.” Ginny laughed.

“Oh come on, ‘Mione! You’re practically drooling over the players.”

“Am not! You are!” Hermione hit her with a pillow and dropped the magazine on the floor.

~~~

Hermione woke up in her bed with a throbbing headache. Too many Muggle margaritas… She turned to her bedside table and saw the Wicked Wizards magazine. Need throbbed through her veins, pulsing through her breasts and down to her core. Just one peek couldn’t hurt.

Opening the centerfold spread, she cast a levitation spell on the magazine so it hovered in front of her face. Hermione felt so naughty and wanton, but since she and Ron had broken up a year ago, she’d thrown herself into working on her pro bono cases: house elves, werewolves, dragons, etc. She hadn’t had a man’s hands on her body in over twelve months, not since Ron had been so rough with her while he was drunk. Not that she’d told Ginny those details, but Hermione pushed that out of her mind.

Every smirk Malfoy gave loosened that knot below her navel, slowly coming undone. Her right hand slipped down into her satin shorts and felt how wet she’d become in a matter of moments. Stifling a moan as her fingers spread the moisture around, rubbing the sensitive bud with delicious intent. Muffliato, she mumbled. Just in case her roommate was awake.

Imagining his chiseled frame pressed against her soft one, her other hand massaged her breasts, sneaking beneath her flimsy camisole and giving each the pleasure it craved. All she wanted right now was those smirking lips, those lips that had hurled insult after insult, to pay homage to her nipples, softly sucking and licking and maybe a little nip here and there.

Hermione moaned, her eyes barely able to stay open to look at the Adonis spread out on the pages. She wanted to strip off those annoyingly tight briefs with the slight bulge and make those sexy, smirking lips groan as she teased his package.

Suddenly, she wished she’d taken Ginny’s advice on buying a vibrator after the break up. Hermione had thought it completely unnecessary, especially since she wasn’t even used to great sex, since Ron thought that rutting her like a pig was enjoyable for her. But what she wouldn’t give for a hard cock to tease her pussy lips open.

Her fingers did just that and then entered one and then two into her dripping pussy. Hermione keened at the sensation, imagining her fingers as his cock, entering her slowly enough to make her want more. Her fingers didn’t reach as far as she thought his cock would, but it would have to do for now. She’d already had a slow build up from the foreplay of seeing all those near-naked men in the magazine, especially him.

Hermione didn’t even care anymore about who he was or had been to her. She thought of him more as an archetype, as some model or celebrity she didn’t really know, a fantasy. Someone she'd never see again. Gasping, she felt herself come completely undone, her pussy gripping her fingers as she picked up her pace and let it all go.

Slumping against the wall, panting, she lowered the magazine back to the table and closed it. Hermione felt both satisfied and hornier than she’d been before. She really hoped the date Ginny was planning for her went well. Perhaps she’d let him take her home on the third date.

Despite her boss’s wishes for a relaxing weekend, Hermione went to the library later that day, Saturday. It was freezing in the draughty building and she swore her nipples could cut glass. Diving into research, she tried to ignore and further suppress her sexual desires.

An hour later, an owl landed on her table. Could she find anywhere that she could avoid disruption? Sighing, she took the note from the bird’s leg. She thought she recognized the owl before it flew off. Who did she know that had a great horned owl?

The envelope was more or less nondescript and she didn’t recognize the seal stamped on the back. It looked like an ‘M’ but didn’t think it was from the Ministry. Her boss couldn’t know that she was at the library. Opening it, she saw a beautiful script, great penmanship even though it was short.

_I saw what you did this morning - D.M._

Hermione flushed and looked around. There was no one else in the area of the library. She thought back to her self-care session this morning and the magazine. “Oh Merlin,” she gasped and dropped the note, her hands shaking. ‘D.M’ stood for Draco Malfoy.

She hadn’t for a second thought about the possibility of Malfoy being able to move into the photograph. Hermione had thought it had only applied to portraits, but it did depend on the strength of the wizard and from she’d read in the papers, Malfoy had become quite distinguished in the wizarding world.

What was she supposed to do? It’s not like she was going to seek him out and she didn’t think he would tell anyone… or would he? He’d probably spied on a million witches doing the same thing. Hermione found that prospect disgusting and cringed.

Several hours went by as she ignored the note and even set it on fire to burn the evidence. She’d do the same to the magazine when she got home. Hermione almost broke her favorite quill from the pressure she was applying to it.

As the ink splattered, the same great horned owl flew in with another note. Exasperated, Hermione debated on reading the note. This time the envelope was fancier with gold lettering on the front with her full name -- Malfoy knew her full name?

Hermione opened it and saw it was an invitation of some sort.

_Miss Hermione Jean Granger,_

_You are cordially invited to dine with Mr. Draco Malfoy at Malfoy Manor at six-o’clock this evening. Required dress code: cocktail._

_The floo will be open at 17:58._

This had to be a sick joke, Hermione thought. Same old Malfoy. Then she saw the postscript:

_P.S. This is not a joke._

“Oh for the love of Merlin!” she muttered to herself. Hermione couldn’t imagine going to the Malfoy Manor… Not after what had happened during the war. A bolt of fear shot through her. Then she realized she’d had just about every feeling about Draco Malfoy today.

After a few breaths, Hermione had decided to attend. After all, she had to defend her honor and at least he was willing to keep it private. Or so she hoped. She scrawled a note back to Malfoy and sent it with one of the library’s owls.

When she arrived home, she jumped in the shower. While she was drying her hair she remembered the dress code. Only Malfoy would require a dress code in his own home! Hate was another emotion she felt stirring with the others in regards to the former Slytherin.

~~~

“Ginny!” Hermione called from her bedroom. She heard her roommate’s heavy footsteps. “Can you please zip this for me?”

“Merlin’s beard, ‘Mione! You look stunning! What’s the occasion?” Ginny cried as she zipped her up.

“Just a business dinner. There’s a dress code, of course,” Hermione said, trying not to blush. Ginny let out a whistle and winked.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione finished teasing her hair into a loose chignon. She’d just about used every pin she owned to get it to stay intact. Smoothing out her dark purple cocktail dress with the sweetheart neckline and the straps that sat on the edge of her shoulders, Hermione slipped into her highest pumps and headed to the living room.

Hermione was ready with a minute to spare. Taking a handful of floo powder, she was glad that Ginny was in her room, and then she said, “Malfoy Manor.”

“I knew you’d be punctual, Granger,” a voice drawled, the owner hidden from view as she arrived at her destination. She blinked away the ash that threatened to ruin her make up with tears as she stepped out of the fireplace into the grand foyer of Malfoy Manor.

“Your note was very specific on time, Malfoy,” Hermione said, automatically taking Malfoy’s hand that he offered. He wore a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up and slim-cut black slacks. She felt a twinge of shame since the only thing she’d recently seen him in was basically nothing.

She looked up and saw him smirking. Something about this felt odd but right, her hand in his, being lead through the manor as if it were a daily occurrence for him. It most likely was, if the tabloids were correct. As Malfoy steered her around the corner, his grip shifted to her elbow, his thumb creating mesmerising circles in the skin of her arm. Hermione fought the impulse to shiver at the sensation that he didn’t seem aware of creating.

“Ah, here we are,” Malfoy announced, stopping before a lavish dining room with a large table set for two. “I would give you the grand tour now, but I’m afraid dinner is ready for us.”

“Why exactly am I here, Malfoy?” Hermione said as he pushed in her chair as she sat.

“For dinner,” he said snapping his fingers. A salad appeared on her plate and white wine filled her glass. The wine was chilled already and soothed her dry throat.

“What you said in your note…” She saw his eyes flash, pale silver irises darkening to molten steel. “It was so…”

“Erotic?” His lip quirked into a grin.

“Voyeuristic,” she finished, taking a bite of a cucumber. Malfoy hadn’t touched his salad and seemed to prefer watching her. “How can you get away with doing that? Shouldn't there be some kind of law--”

“Calm down, Granger. Why do you think I invited you here?” At that, she stabbed a cherry tomato with her fork and left it there.

It was only natural for Hermione to jump to conclusions via her extended logic. “So this is some kind of bribery for my silence?” Her cheeks flushed as she glared at him. “Dinner in exchange for being a peeping tom?”

“You always manage to really hit the nail on the head, don’t you Granger? Got me all figured out?” Malfoy sneered. “The Ministry is really lucky to have the ‘Brightest Witch of Our Age’ working for them.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, her hand fisting around her fork still stuck in the tomato. “So you wanted me to come here so you could taunt me in person, Malfoy?”

Malfoy flinched at the way she was brandishing the fork with the tomato stuck to the end.

“Calm down, Granger, that’s a fork not a wand.” Hermione rolled her eyes at him and then ate the tomato violently, savoring the crushing of the small fruit between her teeth. He continued, “Why don’t you tell me why you accepted my invitation? Surely that says more about this situation than my invitation does.”

“I came here, Malfoy,” she said his name like a curse. “To make sure that you wouldn’t go spewing what you saw to the presses.”

“Wouldn’t that make a wonderful headline: ‘Golden Girl Granger Gets Off’?” he drawled, thoughtfully.

The sound of her chair scraping the marble floor made a hideous sound. She could hear her heels’ clacking echo throughout the great house. Fighting tears, she attempted to make her way back to the floo. Her heels clicked faster when she heard Draco’s dragon leather shoes tapping behind her.

“You don’t know where you’re going, Granger,” Malfoy called smugly.

Hermione turned left, barely able to see through her tears. She couldn’t tell if they were angry or sad tears flowing down her face. However, what she saw as she went through the next doorway made her stop.

“Of course you’d end up here, the library.” Hermione didn’t even dignify him with a response.

This was the biggest library she’d ever seen in her life. Multiple stories and walls and walls of books. Her mouth hung open and her tears dried.

“If only I could get you to look at me like that,” Malfoy commented from the shadows, leaning against one of the ladders. Her eyes darted to him.

“Oh Malfoy, you’ll never be more than a perfect set of abs with a foul mouth to me.”

“We’ll see about that,” he purred and emerged like a wildcat from the shadows, stalking his prey.

Hermione studied him. “Is this why you brought me here?”

“You brought us here, pet. I merely followed,” he shrugged, but his eyes had changed to molten metal once again.

“Seriously, Malfoy.” She crossed her arms.

“Granger, I invited you here because I wanted to have dinner with you.”

“Because I p-pleasured myself to your picture?” Hermione sputtered as he took a step closer.

“No, love. That merely gave me an excuse to invite you. I’ve been thinking a lot about you recently.” Her mouth went dry again. “About why I was so nasty to you in school, why I constantly had to one up you and your little friends.”

“And?” she breathed.

“I was infatuated with you, Granger. It took me so long to realize what those feelings meant. I couldn’t fall for a Muggle-born.” She winced when she thought he was going to say Mudblood. “My parents, being who they were would have never even dreamed of it let alone let it happen. I had to fight all my instincts and went with an emotion that came to me naturally: hate. I hated you because I couldn’t have you. I hated Potter and Weasley because I was jealous that they got to be around you. Hell, I fucked half the pureblood women in Britain to get you out of my system!” Somehow, he’d gotten close enough for her to smell his cologne. It was heady and she felt like she was under a spell.

“I don’t understand… How did you all of the sudden reach this conclusion?” Her brain and heart seemed to be working in tandem, both firing as fast as they could.

“Have you heard of Occlumens therapy, Granger?” Hermione shook her head. “Well, it’s all the rage right now, after the war, especially if you’re as good as an Occlumens as I am.” She shuffled backwards as he inched towards her. “Sometimes you build too many walls, too many compartments when using Occlumency. By the time they released me from Azkaban, I’d pretty much packaged my entire life in neatly arranged boxes. Do you have any idea what kind of toll that can take on a wizard, especially after war and imprisonment?”

Hermione was too overwhelmed to say anything and shook her head.

“I was going insane, Granger. I couldn’t function. So I had help to break open each of those Pandora’s boxes before I ended up in St. Mungo’s.”

“When?” she gasped as she felt the bookshelves at her back. Malfoy towered over her and his eyebrows caved in at her question. “When did you-you open my box?”

“A few weeks ago,” he sighed. “I’d been planning on inviting you over but couldn’t think of how to do it. My therapist said it would only help me come to terms with what I’d done to you. The spying incident was just a perk, really.” Although he finished with his usual arrogant Malfoy attitude, she could see him intensify again.

Hermione could feel his warmth as he was only an inch from being pressed against her, something she’d fantasized about not eight hours ago. She looked into his eyes again. They were swimming with desire.

“Are you sure?”

“Sure about what?” Malfoy frowned.

“Sure that you like me? I mean--” He’d brought his pale thumb to her lips to stop her. There was nothing violent about it, simply a light brush of her lips with the pad of his finger. Hermione went a little weak at the knees. He was, after all, one of the most eligible bachelors in Wizarding Britain.

Since the war, he’d filled out, refining some of his sharply angled features -- the ones that earned him the nickname “ferret” from the Gryffindors -- so they were sculpted from the marble tone of his skin. Malfoy still had the same piercing eyes, though. Before, when they’d brimmed with malice, they were like sharpened crystal and cut through her like icicles, but now they were boiled down to pools of liquid mercury that threatened to drown her in desire.

“Can I show you?” he asked, bringing his same hand to cup her jaw as the same thumb continued to brush her bottom lip. She’d completely lost control of her faculties when he’d made his confession. All Hermione could simply do was close her eyes and tilt her head up to him. “I’m going to need verbal confirmation, Granger,” Malfoy clarified but she felt his warm breath on her lips.

“Yes, alright,” she whispered, her eyes still closed. He removed his thumb to stroke her cheek.

Malfoy’s lips pressed gently to hers. It was perhaps the sweetest kiss she’d ever received. Those cruel lips, the ones that had taunted her and used her blood status against her, were showing her what he’d wanted to use them for instead. She leaned into him and kissed him back in an equally soft manner.

She swallowed a small moan of his when she parted her lips for him. He pressed his lean frame against hers so that the bookshelf was digging into her spine. Hermione didn’t care, lost in the sensation of his mouth on hers and his body against hers, and her arms found there way around his neck and his other hand had found her hip.

Malfoy broke the kiss. He was panting and turned away from her. “Malfoy--” she said breathily.

“It’s Draco,” he croaked. “Please call me Draco, Hermione.” Confused, she walked around so she could see him again. In the moonlight filtering in through the library windows, she could see tears marking his porcelain cheekbones.

Hermione smiled at him, bringing her hands to his face, her fingers tracing the tear lines. He put his large hands over hers.

“I’m sorry, I--” he sputtered.

“Shhh, Draco,” Hermione said and he gave her a watery smile. “How about we finish dinner?”


	2. Don't be a prat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner with Draco continues. Hermione finds herself slipping subtly under his charm. Wicked indeed!

Draco nodded and held her hand as he guided her back to the dining room. Their salads had already been cleared and when he snapped his fingers again, their plates filled with perfectly cooked steaks, potatoes, and green beans. Draco was already about to cut into his when he saw Hermione’s grimace.

“What’s wrong? You’re not a vegetarian, are you?” She shook her head.

“Who cooks for you, Draco?” He gulped as he met her withering stare.

“House elves, but--”

“Draco! You know what I do! How can you expect me to eat--”

“Let me finish, Hermione… please,” Draco interjected. The look on his face was one she’d seen many times before, that look of impatience inherent in the rest of family. “Once my father was locked away and my mother could no longer bear to stay in this monstrosity alone, I took over the manor and I pay the house elves. They get a room of their own, food, clothing, weekly pay, and even holidays.”

“Oh…” Hermione was very rarely at a loss for words, but she’d certainly underestimated him. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

“I’ll even call Mitzy and Bonny up so you can meet them and have their own word for their honest treatment,” Draco offered patiently.

“While that won’t be necessary, I would like to thank them for their wonderful service later. This steak is divine!”

Draco smiled at her and took a bite of his own steak. The potatoes practically melted in her mouth and the beans were savory as well as naturally sweet. Her glass filled with a dark red, perhaps a merlot, that complemented the steak.

“The wine was actually my pairing,” Draco said as he watched her savor her first sip of it. “We have a fine vineyard here at the manor.”

Hermione almost choked on her next sip. His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Really?” she managed. “Is there anything you don’t have here, Draco?”

“Well, not to be cheesy, but now that you’re here, I can definitely say I have everything at this moment.” She saw the sincerity in his eyes, they were a mixture of polished silver and molten metal.

“That was quite a cheesy line, but I think I’ll let you get away with it.” She winked as she took another sinful sip of the wine. “Tell me about your job, Draco.”

“What do you want to know?”

“It’s not all just modeling for _Wicked Wizards_ , is it?” Hermione bit the inside of her lip just remembering the centerfold.

He smirked just like he had in the magazine picture. “No, Hermione. Although if it were, I could probably have a pretty steady side job.”

“I can’t disagree with that.” This flirty banter was definitely new and interesting to Hermione, especially with him.

“My job is mostly negotiating, persuading, and convincing, which as you can tell, I’m quite good at.” Hermione couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Draco, if your ego gets any bigger, you’ll need to build an addition to this place.”

“You asked about my job,” he shrugged, giving her a wicked look. “What about yours? Fancy being a ministry drone?”

“Hey! It’s not all that bad. You know I love research…. Speaking of, how did you know I was at the library today?”

He looked at her like the answer was obvious. “Hermione, I watched you pretty much live at the Hogwarts library for seven years... It was a very educated guess.”

“Touche, Draco. I don’t recall seeing you there that often, though.” Hermione teased him and took the final bite that she could muster of their heavenly meal.

“I was there, skulking around, pretending not to study when I actually was.”

Hermione snorted. “Really?” Draco looked amused at her strange noise.

“I had a reputation to uphold, but I also had to uphold my father’s expectations for grades as well. He said I better ace every course if Mu-Muggleborns were allowed to study there too,” Draco gave an uncanny impression of his father’s tone, which startled Hermione for a second.

“Did you manage to ace every course?” Hermione asked, taking a bite of potato.

“I think you know the answer to that question.” A cross between anger and desire turned his eyes into silver spheres.

“You were second only to me, weren’t you?” she said, unable to break eye contact with him.

His lip curled up on one side nodding, then he took a bite of his steak even though it looked like he was hungry for something more than food. Draco’s wolfish grin made her stomach flip and she tried to concentrate on eating something.

“How very Freudian,” she commented just loud enough for him to hear her.

Hermione saw his eyes darken as he watched her take a bite of steak. As she chewed, the umami flavor reminded her of his musky taste when he’d kissed her. Her lips tingled, suddenly wanting him to kiss her again.

She didn’t know that licking her lips after she swallowed her bite would make him almost choke on the bean he’d been eating. He coughed for a minute as she rushed around the long table to his side.

“Draco, can you speak? Try to say something!” Hermione cried, patting him forcefully on the back.

“Sau-cy minx!” he coughed out, his face returning to its normal pale hue. She rolled her eyes, but she felt relieved. Hermione had been ready with the Heimlich maneuver if he’d actually started choking.

Her hand was automatically rubbing the fine material of his dress shirt -- silk, perhaps? -- that stretched over the expanse of his back. As slender as he was, Draco’s shoulders seemed much wider at the top. Something about that made her shiver.

“Worried about me, Hermione?” Draco purred after clearing his throat. His voice was huskier after his choking episode. He glanced up at her and leaned back so her hand was now trapped between his spine and the back of the chair.

His wolfish grin had returned as his hand reached up to stroke her cheekbone and then pull her down to him for a sultry yet gentle kiss. Hermione felt him smile against her lips and then murmur, “We must leave room for dessert, mustn’t get too carried away, pet.” Draco seemed to be saying this to himself as much as to her.

He relinquished her hand and face as she walked back to her chair in a daze. Hermione’s mind was overloaded with his scent, with her fear for his life, with the way his trapezius muscles corded beneath her touch. He seemed to take her staring at her plate as a sign to clear the table and move onto the next course.

With another snap, a pot, almost like a small cauldron, appeared along with another plate of various slices of fruit, breads, and biscuits. A smile graced Hermione’s lips as she realized what it was: chocolate fondue. She’d tried it with her parents before she’d even known she was a witch. Biting her lip, she realized she didn’t have a stick to dip into the fondue pot.

Draco was watching her. With the flourish of his wand, he levitated a strawberry and dipped it into the melted chocolate. Instead of bringing it to him, he made it hover in front of Hermione’s lips, the fruit perfectly coated. She met his eyes as she gingerly opened her mouth and he guided the strawberry past her lips.

_Draco Malfoy is feeding me fondue_ , Hermione thought, almost moaning at the taste of the bittersweet chocolate melting in her mouth. Across from her, Draco’s eyes were darkening to hard steel, and she could only guess that other parts of him were responding in kind. Her nipples tingled at the thought of him covering her with chocolate and licking it off her. These thoughts had been a mere fantasy ten hours ago, but now it somehow seemed attainable. Pixies started fluttering in her stomach.

Wickedly, she copied him. Levitating a chunk of bright yellow pineapple, she skillfully dipped it in the chocolate and once the coating hardened, she brought it across the table to hover in front of him. Draco’s eyes never left hers as he savored the tropical fruit and licked the chocolate off his lips.

“Interesting choice, the pineapple, love.” The huskiness of his voice reverberated from her brain to her coiling, fluttering core. How can I get so turned on by his voice? Hermione thought with alarm. There wasn’t any irrationality to it, so it wasn’t a lust potion.

“Why?” she said, her voice sounding breathier than she’d like.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m surprised, Hermione. I thought you of all witches would know what pineapple does to a man’s seed.” She could feel the flush creeping up her cheeks and her mouth felt like a desert.

Hermione gaped at him, unsure of how to respond. She saw him dip a pineapple slice and levitate it to her lips. The sweetness made her feel a little dizzy as the flavor exploded on her tongue. Then she started blushing again upon realizing why he’d decided to feed her pineapple as well. The tingling sensation started to spread to her abdomen and lower; Hermione squeezed her legs together in an attempt to quell her unraveling desire.

She couldn’t help but distinguish between the young bully Malfoy at Hogwarts and the romantic, easy-going Draco in front of her. They were almost two completely different people.

Was she allowing him to woo her or was she developing feelings for him? Hermione couldn’t deny that he’d been attractive since their fifth year, but of course, his snide comments and general loathing of her and her blood had suppressed all that admittance, at least to a subconscious level. What he’d admitted earlier changed everything… From what she could tell, he wasn’t lying to get her to sleep with him. There was sincerity in his voice, unlike anything she’d heard from him when they were in school. Perhaps the separation of a few years, struggling with the post-war world and graduation, had changed everything.

Trying not to look too perplexed, Hermione took a sip of the dessert wine that had appeared in her glass. It complimented the chocolate in the most decadent way as she swirled it around her mouth.

“Enjoying that, are you?” She forgot he’d been watching her closely with those silver eyes of his. Nodding, she brought her cloth napkin to her lips and made sure no chocolate had escaped onto her chin. “Should we sit out on the veranda?”

Hermione smiled at the hopefulness in his voice. She could tell he was trying not to look too eager or desperate. “Yes, it’s a lovely night outside. The moon is almost full.” It was probably the most Luna Lovegood-like set of sentences she’d ever uttered, but she didn’t care because her mind was too concentrated on her complex emotions.

“You know, Hermione, out of all the scenarios and ways this dinner could have gone, this is far better than I could have ever imagined,” Draco said, leading her out onto a balcony with a loveseat and two chairs facing the expansive gardens around the manor. Gesturing to the loveseat, she sat alongside him. They were close enough to touch but didn’t. She could tell he didn’t want to push his luck.

“Really? What was the best way you’d imagined?” Hermione pressed, smiling a little.

Draco turned towards her, “Well, I definitely thought there would be some hexing on your part and that was the best I could have hoped for, honestly.” He ran a hand nervously through his silky platinum hair.

Hermione giggled at the thought of her hexing him before storming out because of something he’d said. “As long as you’re not a prat, I don’t think hexing will be in the cards tonight.”

“Would a prat do this?” Draco murmured, his hand gently cupping her jaw, thumb stroking her cheekbone. She couldn’t help but sigh. “Can I kiss you again, Hermione?”

She made some kind of affirmative noise and their lips connected again. Although this time, she deepened it, tracing the seam of his lips and sucking at his bottom lip before their tongues dueled. Her fingers combed through his fine hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. They both moaned in tandem until they had to come up for air.

“I don’t understand,” Hermione breathed as she stared into his moonlit eyes.

“What?” A little fear entered his eyes, but she kept stroking his hair.

“I’ve never felt---You’re so different---I’m trying to wrap my brain around it all….”

He smiled. “Perhaps, Hermione, you should turn off that brain once and a while?” Draco reignited their snogging as his hand snagged in her hair, then felt down her spine and landed on her hip bone. She was nearly in his lap now, her legs draped over his.

“Draco,” she breathed as he worshipped the column of her throat, feeling the throbbing pulse that matched his. He hummed in response as he neared the juncture at her shoulder. “I think we should stop--”

Draco pulled away quickly as if he’d touched something scalding hot. Hermione had to reach a hand out to steady herself at the loss of his support. If she didn’t know him at all, she’d suspect he was guilty. Perhaps she didn’t know this Draco, the one who wanted to snog her senseless.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you,” he apologized.

“You didn’t let me finish my sentence,” Hermione gently chided. He looked back up at her. “I was going to say we should stop there for tonight, leave it at that delightful snogging session.” She took his hand in hers.

Draco looked shocked like a pygmy puff had appeared in her place. “Don’t get my hopes up, Hermione, please. I don’t think I could take it.” He’d placed his other hand over hers as if he were begging. She stood up and then kissed him on the forehead.

“Would you be a gentleman and escort me to your floo, Draco?” Hermione said, offering her arm. A combination between a smirk and a smile appeared on his face as he stood up and took her arm like he had earlier, tracing little patterns on the sensitive skin inside her elbow.

When they made it back to the foyer, Draco seemed reluctant to let her go. “Don’t look so glum, dear,” Hermione said in a very Mrs. Weasley-esque voice squeezing his hand. “I’ll see you on our next date.”

His eyes widened like a small child promised candy and then his expression clouded to Slytherin suspicion. “Don’t mess with me, Granger.”

“I thought it was Hermione, now?” she teased. When did she get so flirty? Ginny would be impressed.

“Hermione,” Draco agreed. “Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

She smiled and faked thinking over his invitation, putting her hand on her chin. “Do I need to send you a formal invitation again? Should I address it to the library?” he offered sarcastically.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, Draco. I accept your invitation to dinner. Is there a dress code?” she quipped back.

“Trust me, Hermione, with you, clothes are always optional in my house,” Draco leered, appraising her long legs, small waist, and ample bosom.

Despite her flirtations, Hermione blushed from head to toe, her palms starting to sweat. Sleeping with him was a possibility now and at the rate that they were going, it was inevitable.

“What’s the matter, Hermione? You’ve seen practically all I have to offer, it’s only fair if I get to see more of your goods.” His eyes had darkened again. If it were possible, she blushed a deeper scarlet.

“I told you, Draco, don’t be a prat or I won’t come back.” That wiped the smirk right off his face as she grabbed some floo powder and left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are my muse! Thank you all for the kudos so far. :)


	3. Second Chances & Constellations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione agrees to another dinner date with Draco, but she can't help the suspicion she has for his motives. He bumbles through the date and she demands truths from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit intense in parts and fluffy in others. Smut is coming in the next chapter! There's a bit of a prelude here, though. Stay tuned!
> 
> Thanks for reading and for your kudos and comments!

Hermione took a deep, cleansing breath when she re-appeared at the flat she shared with Ginny. A knot of anxiety formed in her throat when she thought about telling her roommate and best friend about her date with Draco Malfoy. Luckily, it seemed as though Ginny had gone out with some of her quidditch friends and hadn’t returned. It was only just after 22:00, after all.

 

Had she really been at Malfoy Manor for four hours? It didn’t seem that long. Probably a good sign of a first date, even though she hadn’t known that it would turn into one when she’d agreed to it. Hermione’s head was spinning and she tried to concentrate on feeding Crookshanks who was meowing wildly, licking his lips and entwining himself around her feet for some dinner.

 

“Sorry, Crooky! I didn’t realize I’d be out so late,” she apologized, rubbing the cat’s orange coat. When she entered her bedroom, she saw the magazine that had prompted everything on her end. Resisting the urge to turn it to the centerfold, she noticed an envelope sitting on top of the cover, covering most of Krum’s form.

 

She tore the seal open, recognizing it from Draco’s previous letters. As she saw what was inside, Hermione giggled to herself.

 

_Dear Hermione,_

_A million apologies for being a prat. I can’t help but put my foot in my mouth when I’m around you. Please consider giving me a second chance (or is it a third chance?) at dinner tomorrow night. You can still punish me, but please come to dinner._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

 

Ignoring her fluttering stomach, she grabbed a quill and parchment and wrote him a letter back:

 

_Dear Draco,_

_What time are you expecting your punishment?_

_Hermione_

 

Hermione closed her eyes after slipping out of her dress and crawling into bed. She hadn’t expected a reply when a tapping came at her window just as she was drifting off. An owl with a letter? Already?

Opening it, she laughed through a yawn:

 

_Dear Hermione,_

_I will expect you at 17:58. If you happen to bring your punishment with you, I’d still be delighted to see you both. I will surely dream of you tonight. Sleep well!_

_Yours,_

_Draco_

 

That night she’d dreamt of Draco, of their moment on the veranda, of not stopping him from what he’d wanted to do… what she wanted him to do. He carefully pulled down the zipper to her dress achingly slow. Her bra had all but fell off to his next touch and she’d ruined her knickers. Draco didn’t undress, though. He kissed her breastbone, sternum, his fingers ghosting over her nipples, kissed her navel, then just above the short patch of hair between her legs. She’d opened them for him as he pressed his once-smirking face into the curls adorning her mons. Reaching down, she threaded her hands into his platinum hair…. Then her hands actually felt hair as she woke up with a start.

 

“Oh! Crookshanks!” The cat hissed and glared at her and scampered off after she almost pulled his fur out in dreaming that it was Draco’s locks.

 

Hermione glanced at her nightstand where the magazine still lay. Biting her lip, she fought herself for wanting to look at it… at him. Just a peek -- but he could be looking again, waiting for her to open it. _Would that be so terrible?_

 

Her pussy was throbbing. She couldn’t deny it. Not when Draco had snogged her so mercilessly last night, feeling his muscled body pressed against hers. Her hand automatically dipped into her underwear and she closed her eyes. Hermione was imagining her fingers as Draco’s long, beautiful fingers, slightly calloused from playing Quidditch. She pushed the question out of her head for later of whether or not he still played even though he was an agent.

 

Merlin, she wanted him. Throwing her sodden knickers off, the pair now ruined because of how wet she’d gotten for him last night and this morning, Hermione stoked her desire, stroked like she thought he would, teasingly and remorselessly. Now panting, she thrust a finger and then two inside herself, crooking her fingers toward that spot that made her shudder and her nipples tingle. Managing to fit a third with how she was practically leaking, she choked on her cry as her orgasm swept over her.

 

Hermione had always been a sexual creature. However, she’d seldom found penetration with a partner as enjoyable as her own hands. She knew herself very well and even dating Ron for a year hadn’t taught him anything, unfortunately. He’d always been rather thick in the head. With Draco though, she was hoping it would be different. From the rumors and their intimacy last night, Hermione could tell that he knew how to please a woman, that he could learn what made them moan, what made them cum.

 

After a long hot shower, Hermione felt like she’d cleared her head of him enough to think logically. Humming to herself and preparing a snack in her robe and hair wrapped in a towel, she nearly cut her fingers off when Ginny came out of her room.

 

“Ah! Gin! You scared me?” Hermione laughed. The redhead looked a bit worse for wears, eyes bloodshot, makeup smudged from sleeping.

 

“What’s got you so cheery?”

 

“Nothing, just a productive work dinner last night,” Hermione said, trying not to smile too much.

 

Ginny examined her, clearly hungover. “I was gonna invite you out with us, but you must have gotten home late. Probably better off, seeing as I want to drive my wand through my eye right now.”

 

Hermione snorted. “Sorry, you do look like you could use a Pepperup potion.”

 

“And you look like you’ve had about five of them… Seriously, what happened at that dinner last night?” Ginny asked suspiciously as Hermione handed her a pre-made potion from the cabinet.

 

“I told you, it’s nothing, Gin! Just work.” Ginny didn’t look like she believed her for a second.

 

“Whatever you say, 'Mione. Just let me know when you’re ready to tell me his name,” her roommate grumbled as she stomped back into her bedroom.

 

Hermione shut her gaping jaw. For a professional Quidditch player, Ginny Weasley was a perceptive young woman. She vowed to tell her roommate and best friend after tonight, if the date went well, that is.

 

* * *

 

 

For hours she agonized over what to wear for their second date. There wasn’t a dress code tonight, so now she had more options. Hermione thought of asking Ginny, but she wasn’t ready for her to know about her new courtship, especially that it was their old arch-nemesis.

 

The _Wicked Wizards_ magazine was still on her nightstand where his letters lay. Hermione could see the centerfold spread in her mind with the golden snitch situated right over…. She blinked the image away before she ruined another pair of knickers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the perfect dress and smiled.

 

This one was black lace crochet with golden threads gilding the intricate pattern. It was a bodycon dress without sleeves that hugged every curve, even the lace on the sweetheart neckline molded to her cleavage. The end of the built-in black slip ended at her knees, but the lace kept going to her mid calves. She smiled at herself in the mirror, smoothing the dress over her hips and backside.

 

Smudging some gold eyeshadow over her eyelids and kohl over the bottom eyelashes, she felt absolutely sexy. Hermione used a golden-based bronzer to highlight her cheeks and she felt like she was glowing. She left her hair down, just taming the curls a bit so they didn’t appear frizzy. Completing the look with black pumps, she took a deep breath and checked her watch: 17:35.

 

She tried to read her current book, _What the Werewolf Wants_ , but she couldn’t concentrate after reading the same sentence over and over again. Now Hermione still had ten minutes until the floo opened. Instead of reading, she paced in the living room. Her calves started burning from the high heels and she couldn’t quite extend her legs all the way due to the tightness of the dress around her knees.

 

Rushing into the floo at the appointed time, she almost sneezed but managed to hold it together to call out “Malfoy Manor.” Of course, that meant that she sneezed when she arrived at her destination.

 

“ _Gesundheit, frauline_ ,” Draco articulated in perfect German as she stepped in front of him.

 

Hermione blushed as he leaned in to kiss her on both cheeks. “From German to French, Draco? How many languages and customs do you know?” she asked flirtatiously, more impressed by him with every moment she spent.

 

“My dear, if you made deals with people in twenty countries on a weekly basis, you would be well-versed too,” he whispered into her ear. The sound of his voice, laced with desire, made her tremble. “ _Sei incantevole stasera, signora_. You look ravishing tonight, Hermione,” he translated in his husky baritone.

 

Hermione hoped that her wetness wouldn’t leak through her lace knickers she had on. “Grazie,” she breathed. That was all the Italian she knew. He smiled wickedly at the effect he’d had on her. She felt his eyes graze the exposed cleavage, tracing the lace with his glinting irises.

 

“Shall I give you the grand tour?” Hermione nodded and took his arm. Tonight he had on a navy blue vest over a white button-down and the tightest pair of navy trousers she’d ever seen on a man. She bit her lip and hope her glance behind them to appraise his tight bum was discreet enough or seemed like she was peering at the manor’s architecture.

 

He lead her into the foyer, which was all white marble, even the columns. She saw busts of the Malfoy men except Draco, but he didn’t say anything about those. Hermione followed his gaze upwards to the ceiling, which was modeled after a clear night sky.

 

“My mum had this ceiling installed by an expert wizard painter. She wanted a reminder of her family, the Blacks, who tended to name their children after constellations.” She watched as he drew his wand and traced one constellation in silver strokes with a triangle body and lines radiating out of it. “Andromeda,” he said after tracing it. Then he found another, which Hermione recognized as Orion, but he only highlighted one bright star, “Bellatrix.” She visibly convulsed, the air being sucked from her lungs.

 

He steadied her, her nails practically piercing through his shirt. His eyes showed remorse as Hermione tried not to lose consciousness at the memories of her torture, the torture that he’d witnessed. Draco wrapped an arm around her waist as she dragged another breath, her eyes squeezed shut, trying to calm down.

 

She thought his closeness and warm embrace would suffocate her, but she felt comforted even as he whispered into her hair, “I’ve got you now, Hermione. I’m sorry, so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that…. I’m a fucking arse.” She clung to him, breathing in his woodsy cologne. He kept muttering apologies and stroking her back, her hair, as she dragged in more air.

 

Finally, a few minutes later, she released him and he seemed reluctant to let her go. “Draco, I’m fine now.” Hermione tried not to sound accusatory but more soothing. His eyes were still wide and apologetic.

 

“I-I actually wanted to show you a different constellation.” She looked up as he traced one with a sideways trapezoid and a tail that curved sharply upwards and back down and away from the origin point.

 

“Draco,” she murmured, recognizing the form. He nodded to his namesake.

 

“I wish I could have been braver, like you, Hermione. You’re the true dragon, I’ll only ever be a measly serpent, not fit to do anything but worship at your feet,” he said bitterly, unable to meet her gaze.

 

Hermione had only seen this side of him during the night before, during his confession. She didn’t know what to say and couldn’t admit what he said to be true or false. It was his opinion, not a final judgment. To her surprise, he sank to his knees at her feet in those impossibly tight trousers as if she were his goddess.

 

“Hermione, princess of Sparta, I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” She never thought she’d see the day where Draco Malfoy groveled to anyone, let alone her.

 

To say Hermione was stunned at this gesture was an understatement. Just when she thought she couldn’t feel any more emotions about Draco Malfoy, she had a whirlwind pass through her. Hermione let him stay prostrate for another minute. He didn’t look up at her.

 

Thinking back to what he’d said to her in the last day, she was trying to make sense of everything. While she believed him when he’d confessed his attraction to her, Hermione couldn’t shake the sense that there was something else. That’s when she remembered what he said at dinner: _My job is mostly negotiating, persuading, and convincing, which as you can tell, I’m quite good at._

 

What if that’s what he was doing, even when it threatened his ego and his reputation? What if he was trying, at any cost, even bruising his ego, to sleep with her? But why would he go to such lengths just to get her into bed when he’d already sowed his wild oats around Britain, so to speak? Hermione knew that she was trying to rationalize the irrational. However, out of all these gestures and confessions and apologies; she needed the pure, unadulterated truth from him.

 

“Draco, get up!” she said, forcefully, her tone echoing in the large room. With wide eyes, now fearful of her berating, hexing and leaving him, he did as he was bid. Hermione crossed her arms as though tempting him to peruse her decolletage at this tense moment. His face was sober and slightly embarrassed by his dramatic display.

 

“Now,” Hermione began to lecture him. “I need the truth, Draco Lucius Malfoy.” He winced at his middle name, his father’s name. “I don’t need to be negotiated, persuaded, and convinced like your clients. I don’t doubt that you’ve been sincere, but… I need you to answer one important question.” His eyebrows furrowed, creating worry lines on his smooth, porcelain forehead.

 

“Are you in love with me?” Her brown eyes latched onto his metallic ones. After a second, his eyes closed and his face relaxed. She let him take her hand that was now hanging at her side. His touch electrified hers as his thumb massaged the back of her hand lightly.

 

“Hermione, I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I didn’t think you would believe me. I thought you’d leave at once when you found out. But yes, I am in love with you, and I’ve been in love with you longer than I’ve consciously realized.”

 

She nodded. “Thank you for telling me the truth. I know that must have been difficult, but I think I deserve that much,” Hermione said and lifted the hand he wasn’t holding to his cheek. His face leaned into her palm, savoring her touch. “That being said, it’s going to take more than a few dates for me to fall in love with you.”

 

His eyes shot open, hope shining through them. “You have no idea how thrilled I am to have a chance at that. And I know that I can’t pull any fast ones on you; you’re too clever for that and that’s part of why I love you,” he said fondly.

 

Hermione smiled, blushing slightly. She still wasn’t used to the idea that he was in love with her. A sexy, intelligent, powerful wizard who was once her childhood bully was in love with her.

 

“Can we continue the tour?” she asked and gestured for him to lead the way.

 

The bounce in his step returned as they ascended the gorgeous winding staircase. “I promise not to show you anything else… disheartening.” They weaved through the upstairs through the many ornately themed rooms that Narcissa Malfoy had furnished and avoided those that Draco deemed undeserving of her presence.

 

Once they returned to the first floor, they skirted past the dreaded drawing room, which he explained that he’d permanently locked. “I wanted to destroy it, personally, but a few builders assured me that it might destabilize the entire manor.” They came to a set of double doors through which Hermione could hear quite a commotion.

 

He knocked on the doors and two house elves came scrambling out. Both were dressed in sweaters made from tea cozies.

 

“Mitzy, Bonny, this is Miss Hermione who was my guest this evening and yesterday’s evening.” Both were wide-eyed -- even for house elves -- and bashful upon meeting her. As she bent down, Mitzy, in blue, seemed to tremble.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both!” She stuck a hand out to Mitzy, who wasn’t sure what to do until Bonny grasped her hand in her small one.

 

“Mitzy does not mean to displease Miss, but we have both heard from Master Draco of Miss standing up for our rights. We thank you and do not know what to do in your presence,” Bonny said, a little bolder than her companion.

 

Hermione smiled, “I do what I think is right, Bonny. I wanted to thank you both for the delicious dinner yesterday. Everything was divine and I’m looking forward to what you have prepared for us tonight.” Both house elves nodded and squealed, jumping a little.

 

“I think you found a few more fans at Malfoy Manor, Hermione,” Draco teased, but there was an element of awe in his tone.

 

She waved him off and said, “Flatterer!” He stopped in his tracks and took both of her hands in his.

 

His expression was earnest as was his voice, “I’m not. You have done so much good in this world, love. I couldn’t even do that much in a lifetime. You could have done anything with your life, and I know I teased you yesterday about working for the Ministry, but you do things that everyone would be too afraid to do in face of all the challenges and the archaic nature of the Wizarding World. We are stuck in the past and you’re trying to bring us into the modern age where every person and creature has rights. I admire you greatly for that.”

 

Hermione didn’t realize that she was holding her breath during his speech. “Thank you, Draco. I don’t know what else to say.”

 

He smiled down at her. “You don’t have to say anything, Hermione. Just let me take you on a walk through the gardens before dinner.”

 

White peacocks roamed the gardens, which was more or less a maze of hedges, fountains, and arches with flowering vines wrapped around them. Hermione had identified several rare plants on the grounds and had been excitedly explaining their uses to Draco. As much as he was interested, especially when she was talking about what potions they could use the ingredients for, only Draco grinned and nodded dopily at her. He admired the way the wind swept her curls behind her so she had to tuck them behind her ears, the ears he wanted to kiss, whisper naughty things into, and the lobes he wanted to worry between his teeth.

 

They wound up on the white stone patio where a small table was set for two with candles floating over the table. He gestured for her to sit and pushed her chair in for her.

 

“Such a gentleman,” Hermione teased, but only slightly. He smiled, but a slightly bitter expression shadowed it.

 

“Manners were the only useful pure-blooded tradition that my parents taught me. It’s almost like breathing at this point, to be honest. It’s all I have left of my mother.”

 

She reached for his hand across the table, careful not to knock over their glasses. “I know your mother loved you very much, Draco. She gave you the capacity to love, showed you how it is to do anything and everything to save those you love. I think we both have that in common.”

 

Draco’s confusion begged her to continue. “You did Voldemort’s dark bidding as well as you could for a seventeen-year-old boy who loved his mother more than anything else. And I had to obliviate my parents’ memories and send them to Australia. I don’t know if I can reverse the spell without damaging their minds. We both lost a lot in the war for the same reason: love.”

 

His liquid mercury eyes penetrated hers. He looked like he could cry or burst into a smile, torn between the two emotions at her insight and understanding. She watched his lower lip tremble as Draco opened his mouth to speak. No sound came out and he shut his jaw with a clacking sound as his teeth clashed together. She’d stunned him speechless, the boy who’d tormented her with words until she was balling in the bathroom or punching him in the face.

 

To her surprise, he stood up quickly, his chair scraping against the stone patio. Within seconds, she was wrapped in his warm embrace, his lips hovering an inch away from hers. He smelled like peppermint and eucalyptus as he all but panted as he said, “Can I kiss you, Hermione?”

 

The squeak she made in response was embarrassing, but it was enough for him to capture her lips in his. He stole her breath as he nipped playfully at her bottom lip. His tongue snuck in to find hers and the duel began. She pressed her breasts into his chest, needing the friction on her aching nipples. The need for him overwhelmed her as it had this morning.

 

The couple practically jumped apart at the loud popping noise beside them. Mitzy had appeared and looked quite startled by their display. She recovered and said, “Dinner is ready, Master Draco and Miss.”

 

Draco cleared his throat and responded huskily, “Thank you, Mitzy. We were just about to sit down to eat.”

 

The house elf nodded, her saucer-like eyes bigger than usual, and popped back into the kitchens.

 

Hermione burst into a giggle. Draco grinned at her wolfishly, looking rather like he’d want to continue their snogging instead of eating dinner.


	4. Lions & Legilimens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner continues and more truths are revealed. (Some fluff leading up to a lemon!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for being so late in posting this. I will try to post at least twice a month and I'm trying to stay a chapter ahead. Check out my other Dramione fics that are in progress too!

“I would apologize for my lack of manners, but I see that there is no apology needed.” His piercing eyes raked over her figure and met her gaze, both of their pupils blown wide.

“No apology necessary, Draco. You are fully entitled to your passion,” she flirted as they both sat down.

“You should know,” he said while snapping his fingers. “That I’ve bridled my passion for a long time.”

A tingle shot down her spine, stoking her need even more. Hermione felt breathless as she mirrored his reach for the bubbling champagne that had filled their glasses without even a millimeter of foam at the top.

With a devilish grin, Draco toasted: “To our capacity for love and to the future of our passions.”

Even as Hermione took a small sip of the sparkling liquid, she instantly felt buzzed. The cool air of the garden was no match for the heat her body was emanating from their earlier embrace. She knew she probably just needed to eat and calm down, but really all she wanted was his body close to hers, preferably flush against hers. She felt flushed: flush in her cheeks and all her hope of resisting him and being rational flushed down the drain.

With another snap of his fingers, a gazpacho soup appeared in their bowls. She smiled, mentally thanking the house elves for a refreshing appetizer in the heat of her moments with Draco. The cold soup was savory and perfectly spiced.

Draco was watching her. “Did you know that in Japan they consider it rude if you don’t slurp your soup? I learned that the hard way when doing business there last year.”

“Oh really? Are you trying to goad me into making obscene noises with my mouth?” Hermione teased and bit her lip when she realized what she’d said. Apparently, she hadn’t recovered from her lusty thoughts.

“My dear Miss Granger, if you keep making such lewd statements, we will have to skip this meal altogether… and you wouldn’t want Mitzy and Bonny’s hard work go to waste, would you?” The edges of his lips curled and his eyes were swirling silver discs.

Hermione shook her head. Her mind struggled to grasp for another topic, something to get her mind out of the gutter.

“So Hermione,” he managed to segue effortlessly. “Tell me about your home life. Do you live alone?”

“No, actually. I live with Ginny Weasley, you remember her, surely?” She saw him fight his instinct to revile the Weasley name.

At least he chose to be nonchalant in his answer: “Of course, she plays quidditch and it’s part of my job to know everyone who’s anyone in the game.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t pay as well in the women’s side of the sport, but it’s good to know that she has been successful after everything she’s been through.”

Draco pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. Hermione could have sworn she saw a flash of the memory of his father slipping Tom Riddle’s diary in Ginny’s cauldron during their second year.

“Do you keep in touch with the others?”

“The Weasleys you mean?” He glared at her and she smiled at his inability to say her ex’s last name. “Yes, most of them, anyway. Ronald and I haven’t spoken for a long time. And of course, I have lunch with Harry every week.”

“I’m surprised your lunches don’t make it into the Prophet every week,” Draco mused, slightly bitter.

She laughed. “We usually go to Muggle restaurants to avoid all the publicity. Although, you, the Malfoy heir, haven’t shied away from the prying eyes of the press….” Hermione crooked an eyebrow at him.

“It was a PR stunt, really,” he explained, bashfully. “I needed to shed a better light, a different light, on myself than my father had when he tarnished our name. Those women were paid to be seen with me, but nothing ever happened. As for the Wicked Wizards...” A rueful smile took over his face and his eyes glinted knowingly at her. Hermione blushed. “That was just for fun,” he finished with a purr.

Hermione almost inhaled her last spoonful of soup and it made her eyes water. He knew the effect he had on her. It was unfair, really, but she also knew he loved her, and that had even more of a potent effect. Draco cleared their bowls with a snap of his long fingers, fingers that she wished were roaming her body again.

She felt his eyes on her as she shivered, thinking about him touching her. A steaming plate of grilled cod appeared in front of her. It was spiced with something she couldn’t identify, but it certainly smelled heavenly. Alongside the dish were peas and wedge potatoes.

“Do you keep in touch with your friends from Hogwarts?” she asked before taking a bite of the perfectly flaky fish.

Draco shook his head. “Not really. Blaise, Pansy, and Theo are all married with kids or kids on the way. They’re incredibly busy and my PR rep warned me not to associate myself with anyone on the wrong side of the war anymore.”

Hermione’s fork clattered loudly against the fine china. Alarmed, Draco stared at her narrowed eyes.

“Let me get this straight. This PR person wants you to stay away from your Slytherin friends, and now, you are courting me, someone on the winning side of the war,” she raised an eyebrow.

Draco’s jaw dropped, connecting the dots that she’d laid out for him. “I-I realize how that sounds, but believe me, how I feel about you has nothing to do with a PR stunt. I told you--”

Hermione interrupted him, standing up and folding her arms across her chest, “You spy on me, send me a letter out of the blue, and then tell me a sob story about an epiphany about your love for me... that all seems oddly convenient. Draco, I need the truth. Tell me our relationship isn’t just another PR stunt.”

Draco was still gawping like a fish, his eyes wildly searching for what to say. He stood up and reached for her arm, but she backed away, refusing to back down.

“Hermione... did you just say our relationship?” If she’d been mad before, now she was livid.

“That’s what you got out of that?!! You’re unbelievable! Why am I here? Why am I wasting my time with you?”

“Hermione--” She waved him off.

“You’re just conning me like you always used to do.”

“No! That--”

“I should have just agreed on the blind date Ginny was going to set me up on….”

“Hermione!” he growled. “You’re completely overthinking this! What do I have to do to prove to you that I love you and that I want to be with you?”

She bit her lip and huffed. “Can we sit down to finish our meal while you think about it?” Draco suggested, his voice a bit hoarse now.

They took their respective seats, both silent. He could see the wheels in Hermione’s mind turning as she ate her fish.

“It’s from the Bristol Channel,” Draco said, breaking the silence. Hermione broke out of her thoughts.

“What is?”

“The cod.”

Hermione grimaced down at the fish. “Draco Malfoy, aren’t you the king of segues?”

He shrugged, taking a bite. “I thought I was King of the Slytherins?” His mercury eyes twinkled at hers.

She narrowed hers again, still suspicious. “I believe it was Prince, but that’s beside the point. You’re still trying to con me.”

“Do you always believe the worst in people or is it just me?” That was a mistake. She stood up again, fury clearly taking over her face.

“Of course it’s just you! You used to taunt me with slurs and degrading comments! Why should I simply forgive you because you say you love me? Once again, how do I know this isn’t just for appearances or getting into my knickers?”

Her voice rang out into the gardens, one of the peacocks squawking at the disturbance. Draco stood up again to face her. He looked like a statue, calm and collected but resolute.

“Mitzy!” he called and the house elf appeared with a crack.

“Master Draco! Is you and miss enjoying the meal?”

“The food is absolutely delicious, Mitzy. Can you please go to the potions pantry and retrieve the Veritaserum?”

“Yes, Master!” she said and popped away. A couple of seconds later, the house elf returned with the vial.

Hermione watched him in awe of his willingness to prove the truth to her. If he drank that potion, she could ask him anything she wanted and he'd have to give the true answer. Discontent unsettled her stomach.

Eyes on her the whole time, he uncorked the vial, toasted her, and lifted it to his lips.

“Wait! No, not like this," she said, closing her eyes. She didn't want to find out this way, not artificially even if he was willing.

He'd frozen, eyes wide in surprise and relief. Draco put the stopper back in the bottle and waited for her explanation.

“There's another way you can prove your love and your trust to me…” Hermione wrung her hands.

Weary yet eager, Draco whispered, “Anything for you."

“Let me see what was in my box."

He sighed. "I hoped it wouldn't come to this, but I'm willing. It's just that… you may not understand… you know that I was rude to you because of my feelings… I kept it all bottled up. There's not much to see… it was more of my emotions… I-I.”

She raised her wand. "I think I know what I'm looking for. _Legilimens_!”

There was a bit of resistance, like a thick bubble before she could sift through his memories. Hermione was looking for the worst night of her life. And abruptly, she saw it forming: the fireplace, the expanse of the room, the cackling from his mad aunt, and finally, her own screams echoing.

_Draco was staring into the fire, his back to the torturous scene. He had his wand with his fist nearly crushing it, knuckles white. His cheeks were wet, eyes red and puffy. Seventeen-year-old Draco was whispering to himself: “Do something, you coward. Do anything but stand here and cry. You have to help her or she'll kill her. You don't deserve her, you never will. You'll always be the coward who didn't step in, the snake laying low in the grass while the battle rages on, while the brave ones scream and perish!”_

The scene morphed as she reeled.

_There was a dark haired woman sitting in an armchair across from a disheveled Draco. He looked worse than she'd ever seen him: hair shaggy, a scraggly blonde beard on his chin and jaw, his robes unkempt and wrinkled._

_“Mr. Malfoy," she started to say but his eyes flashed in anger. “I'm sorry, Draco, we're opening that box today. You must. It's the only one keeping you from recovering. The repression is dangerous.”_

_His head fell into his hands, fingers digging into his scalp._

_"This is why you're here, Draco," she reminded him soothingly._

_He nodded wearily. “Legilimens! Don't fight me, Draco. Breathe! Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…” The woman_ lead _him through the breathing exercise, which reminded Hermione of meditation._

_“Now, take the first wall down… good! Now another. Slowly, Draco. It's all going to be fine. Nothing is going to hurt you.”_

_Hermione could see his body shaking. His mind was fighting the intrusion._

_“Very good, Draco, we're almost there..."_

_He bellowed at the invasion. She saw a flicker of astonishment on the therapist's face._

_“You know her?" she asked._

_Draco growled in response. "I see, that's enough for today."_

_Slumping back on the couch, he looked even more haggard and dazed. The therapist was writing something._

_“How do you feel about Hermione Granger?"_

_“I don't know,” he_ grit _out._

_"Draco, this is a breakthrough for you. I will help you as much as I can, but you ultimately have to come to terms with your feelings.”_

_He looked like he was in pain. "I can't… she'll never… she's out of reach… she hates me.”_

_The woman seemed like she understood, most likely from the memories she'd witnessed._

_“Do you know that for sure?"_

_He snorted. "You saw how I treated her like she was_ filth, _like she was nothing. I can't pretend like that didn't happen. She'll never forgive me.”_

_"Draco, from what I've read about Miss Granger, she is an admirably compassionate individual. Tell the truth. All of it. Tell her how you felt and how you feel now. She may be receptive and understanding.”_

Hermione broke away from the memory, drops falling from her eyes. Though her tears, she saw him on his knees from the force of her intrusion into his mind. Before she could comprehend anything, she had thrown her arms around his shoulders, his head pressed into her bosom.

Draco held onto her waist like a buoy, a lifeline. Her wand clattered on the stones.

“I'm sorry… I had to know,” she whispered, rubbing circles into his back.

Hermione felt his face try to borrow in between her breasts. She tried to ignore the thrumming in her veins. Pulling his head out of its preferred location, she forced him to look at her.

“Hermione, please tell me I didn't ruin everything, please!”

She shook her head. "I ruined our evening by becoming suspicious. I know I shouldn't doubt you this much but…”

“Do you think you'll ever trust me?"

“In time, I believe I could."

Draco’s innate charm spread across his face with a glittering grin. He took her hand in his. She met his gaze as he kissed the back of her hand. His lips ignited a wave of desire that coursed through her body. It made her shiver.

“Can I show you something I discovered last night after you left?"

She searched his silver eyes for any mischief but found none.

“Alright, but only with the promise of finding out what Mitzy and Bonny prepared for dessert tonight,” Hermione bargained.

A chuckle burst from Draco's lips. “I take it you have a bit of a sweet tooth, Hermione."

“Only when the promise of a gourmet dessert is on the table.”

There was something predatory about the look in his eyes. “I'll keep that in mind." The wink he gave her made her stomach flip.

Draco led her out to the clearing right before the drop off of the hill on which the manor sat. The sun was setting before them giving their surroundings a warm glow.

“I was never able to cast a patronus until last night,” he explained.

"Really? But from everything I read, you're quite an accomplished wizard!”

Draco smirked in amusement. “Been doing your research on me, Hermione? I do hope I'm worth the study,” he purred.

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smile that took over her lips.

“My Occlumens therapist said I didn't have a strong enough happy memory. Until now. _Expecto patronum!_ ”

The usual silver light spilled from his wand and formed into a graceful animal, almost like a large cat. It took Hermione a minute to realize that it was a lioness as it slunk through the grass towards her. The fierce feline circled her before nuzzling her hand that was by her side.

“A lioness… your memory was...” she said breathlessly.

He'd stepped toward her while she'd been mesmerized by the patronus. Draco closed the gap, his lips inches from hers.

“It was this," he murmured and captured her lips into a firm yet gentle kiss. Her hand fisted his shirt to pull him closer. He moaned when she sucked on his bottom lip, pulling at it with her teeth. His arms encased her, one hand in her hair pulling out her chignon, the other gripping her hip. Her fingers carded through his fine platinum hair and scratched his scalp lightly with her nails, drawing a moan from his mouth to vibrate into hers.

Hermione could feel the magic surging through her, the magic they’d created to form the patronus. It sent tingles shooting down her spine as she pressed her body into his. Their tongues dueled expertly, consuming one another, swallowing one another’s moans. When they came up for air, the rosy glow wasn’t just caused by the setting sun.

He spoke first: “Shall we go back for dessert?” Hermione hummed in response.

Her lips felt bee-stung from the magic of their mouths intertwining. She couldn’t speak properly if her life depended on it. Leaning into him as they strolled back to their table, Hermione saw the candles surge with their combined power.

Instead of leading her back to her own seat, Draco transfigured his own chair into a loveseat and then snapped his fingers for the final course to appear. He summoned her dish wandlessly and wordlessly to land next to his. They sat down in a daze and Hermione curled into his body heat with their magic resonating between them.

She hadn’t even glanced at the dessert. With heavy-lidded eyes, Hermione saw him lifting a spoonful of something chocolate flavored to her mouth and opened it. When the dessert touched her tongue, she couldn’t help but moan in bliss. It was rich yet creamy, cold but had a lightness to it. It was like eating a chocolate cloud.

Draco chuckled as he took a spoonful for himself and said, “I can’t wait until it’s me alone making you moan like that.”

Hermione poked him in the ribs, but couldn’t help but smile in agreement. “One of my Spanish clients introduced me to this dessert: delicias de chocolate or chocolate delight,” he whispered into her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

His other hand that wasn’t alternately feeding them was running lightly over her bare arm. Hermione closed her eyes at the sensation of his touch. Something cold and melted was pressed to her lips a moment later. Eyes still shut, she opened and sucked the chocolate delight from Draco’s finger.

Now it was his turn to moan. His lips replaced his finger, bruising her lips with his passion. Hermione could taste the chocolate on his tongue as it slipped against her own. He trailed kisses down her jaw and throat, nipping lightly at the soft, sensitive flesh, which made her nails dig into his shoulder.

After trailing up to her ear, Draco whispered huskily, “I don’t know when or if you’ll let me have you, but when I do, I will worship you, fulfill your every desire, every kink, touch every centimeter of your perfect body. You are my delight, Hermione. I will never consume my fill of you.”

“Please,” she keened.

“What love? What is it you want?” he whispered after tracing the shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue.

“Draco, please. I need…” she gasped as he pulled her onto his lap. The crevice of her bum settled over his very hard cock.

He pressed kisses to her cleavage, his tongue sneaking between her breasts. “Is this it, love?”

Hermione shifted, which made him growl into her bosom, the vibration spreading throughout her body.

“Apparate us… apparate to your bedroom, Draco. I need to feel you…” He looked up at her, pupils were blown so wide that only the thinnest silver lining was visible.

“You’re sure--”

“Draco Malfoy, if you do not apparate us to your bedroom in two seconds, I will--”

They appeared in a darkened bedroom with a reverberating crack. “What were you gonna do, pet?”

His hands had wandered up the skirt of her dress when they’d landed on their feet. Hermione's knees almost buckled as his fingertips traced the lace of her panties.

“Hmmmm?”

“If I didn’t apparate us?” Draco smirked against her neck.

“Oh,” she bit her lip. “Well, I would have hexed your balls off for being coy, you prat.”

“I see, that would have been a bit counterproductive, then, for what you wanted me to give you, that is,” he purred into her ear, lips brushing her lobe.

“Would you shut up and unzip my dress?”


	5. Instruments & Incarcerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione finally get down and dirty! (WARNING: PURE SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER)

With a deep chuckle, he stepped around her and began kissing the nape of her neck. An involuntary shudder ran through her. Draco kissed down the knobs of her spine until he reached the zipper. With both hands still on her waist, he lowered it with his teeth, exposing more of her skin.

Once her dress pooled around her feet, he kissed back up her spine, starting at the adorable dimples above her shapely bum. Draco’s fingers ghosted along the curves of her sides and Hermione leaned back into him when he reached her neck. She drew a groan from him by pushing her hips back so her arse was flush against his pelvis.

“Are you going to tease me all night, Draco?” she cooed. “I feel like this foreplay has been going on for the last two days.”

His fingers dug into her hip bones. “You’re going to make me rush this, love. I want to savor you as I’ve savored our dates so far,” he purred into her ear. “And, for the record, I’ve been waiting much longer for this than two days.” She felt the evidence of his long-held desire digging into the crease between her cheeks and lower back.

Draco’s palms came up to feel the weight of her breasts -- Hermione didn’t know when he’d unhooked her bra, but she couldn’t think any more about it when his thumbs started to strum her tightening nipples. Her head fell back against his shoulder as she whimpered at the sensation.

“I want to learn to play your body like a well-tuned instrument,” Draco continued whispering. “I want every touch to elicit a response from you, whether it’s desire, frustration, pleasure or all those at once. Everything I do to you will be to bring you closer to the brink of orgasm, Hermione.”

His words and the tone of his voice sent her senses into overdrive. She could feel her desire dripping down her thighs and she rubbed them together to create some kind of friction. Hermione needed more.

“Tut tut, love. I’m the one who is playing your exquisite form. You must be patient. I will fulfill your every need in due time.”

Hermione huffed but a tweak to her right breast made her squeak. He started thrusting against her bottom, whether it was for himself or for her, she didn’t know. The ache between her thighs was unbearable, not when he was this close to her.

“Draco… please,” she begged. Hermione never thought she’d beg Draco Malfoy for anything, and he’d never thought he’d have her begging for him to touch her, let alone anything else.

His left hand drifted away from her breast while the other remained, leaving it to take residence right at her panty line. “What is it, pet? What do you want me to do to you?”

Now she was speechless as her entire concentration revolved around his finger tracing the lace of her knickers, silently willing it to dip closer to her engorged clit that was pulsing with need. His hips had stopped thrusting, so she decided to grind back into him. Draco growled against her ear.

“Feisty, aren’t we? You want me to rip open your knickers and bury my cock inside you right now, don’t you? Or what about if I eat out your sodden quim, my tongue lapping up your juices and sucking on your little nub?”

“Fuck, Draco… You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” she complained. He didn’t quite anticipate for her to seize his hand and bring it to the wet patch of lace right over her clit, moving his fingers in a circular motion. Hermione moaned, joining his own groan, and he felt her body quake.

Draco took back control, the little he had at the moment, and cupped her pussy lightly over the lace. He knew she wasn’t pleased, but at least it was something. “ _Incarcerous_ ,” he whispered and her cry of shock allowed him to regain more composure.

Hermione’s hands were bound in front of her now. In another circumstance, if a guy did this without consulting her first, she’d feel betrayed, but she trusted Draco even if he was taking her sexual frustration to an entirely new level. He turned her to face him, his cheeks flushed.

“Can you sit for me on the bed, love?” he requested after lightly kissing her. Hermione nodded and complied. She was slightly concerned that he’d leave, but instead he started undressing himself.

Unbuttoning his shirt seemed to last an eternity as she watched him. He could have removed it magically, but she knew he was teasing her. He took his shoes and socks off in a leisurely manner. Her breath caught as his hands reached for his belt. Draco smirked as he lowered the zipper and his trousers fell to the floor.

Hermione bit her lip, whether it was to stop her from giggling or moaning, she couldn’t tell. He was wearing the golden snitch briefs from the magazine. This time, though, his hard on was clearly outlined by the fabric, straining against the material. He was very well hung and he knew it. She had never had anyone as big as he was. Her stomach flipped in anticipation.

“These pants are my good luck charm, I think,” Draco commented before exposing his large manhood, which was glued to his flat lower stomach. The deep V of his hips pointed to the evidence of his desire for her.

Hermione couldn't believe that someone as sinfully gorgeous as he was wanted her. Not that she thought she was ugly because she had good self-esteem, but he was an Adonis. To give herself a boost of confidence, Hermione disobeyed him and took him into one of her bound hands.

He groaned at the feeling of her hot hand around him. Then Draco saw her tongue swipe across her lips before bending over and licking the head of his cock. She teased the glands expertly and weighed his balls in her hands.

Hermione gasped as he tugged on her hair hard enough to tell her to stop. His eyes were molten mercury and looked as though he was hanging by a thread. Draco pulled her up by her bound wrists.

“I bound your wrists so you couldn't tempt me to take my pleasure from you, my dear,” he all but growled. "I have to make sure you are beyond sated before I allow myself that honor. Okay?” She chewed on her bottom lip and nodded.

He walked her back to the bed until she toppled back onto it with him standing between her open legs. His erection was still straining towards her. Hermione didn't understand how he could be so restrained and yet so aroused. It aroused her even more that he was willing to hold off his pleasure in favor of hers.

“I hope..." Her breath caught as his hands glided from her ankles toward her knees. “That sometime you'll let me finish you off with my mouth.” Draco chuckled darkly.

"Oh, love, I never knew how perfect you actually were until now," he dragged her toward him by the legs until her arse was at the edge of the bed. “It's all in good time. I hope there's more time, at least. I aim to prove to you that I can fulfill your every desire.” His lips were ghosting over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

She squirmed a little, her hips seeking any kind of friction. He went to his knees with her thighs on his broad shoulders as he nipped and kissed his way to where she needed him the most.

“Draco," she begged. Hermione felt him smile against her skin.

"Is this what you want, pet?” His tongue deftly stole a taste of her flowering pussy lips glistening with desire. She bucked against his mouth, only to have him pull away. “Answer me, love. It's the only way I know I'm pleasing you.”

Hermione met his quicksilver eyes with her half-lidded ones. She knew he was teasing her, but she couldn't help how much his need to pleasure her turned her on even more.

“Eat me, Draco, please!" She practically sobbed as he proceeded to lick her pussy like an ice cream cone.

When he sucked on her engorged nub she came all over his face with a choked cry. Draco drank all her juices like a dog dying of thirst, extending her orgasm as she panted above him.

“Fuck, Hermione, you are a goddess. You taste like honey and roses," he whispered huskily as he crawled up her limp body.

She opened her eyes, which felt heavy from her intense orgasm. His mouth felt even more heavenly and sinful than she'd imagined. Now she saw those lips sticky from her release and watched his talented tongue swipe at her essence and savor the flavor with a moan.

Hermione possessed his lips, tasting herself on them, and wanting more of him and wanting to please him.

“Do you think I'm right about the way you taste?" Draco asked, his body hovering above hers with his raging erection resting heavily on her thigh.

Hermione couldn't form words -- a first for her -- so she nodded and wriggled to gain more contact with him. The head of his cock brushed against her sodden quim dragging a tortured moan from the blonde wizard.

“You always know how to get under my skin, love. You want my big, hard cock to fill your dripping pussy up?” he purred into her ear.

Hermione groaned at how much she needed him. "Yes, Draco! Fuck me! Please!"

“Since you said the magic word…”

The thick mushroom head, slit weeping pre-cum, started to stretch her. As he slid deeper, she gasped as her body tried to accommodate his girth.

Hermione clawed at his shoulders when he was finally seated within her womb. She didn't know how he fit -- it defied logic and physics -- but she'd never felt so whole.

“Hermione," he gritted out through clenched teeth. “You feel so perfect, so wet, warm and soft for me. I can't wait to feel you come apart around me.” Her walls fluttered reflexively around him and they both moaned.

She rolled her hips and felt the tip of his cock bump against her cervix, stoking her need and desire even more. If he hadn't been so close to the edge, Draco would have reveled in the way her eyes rolled back in her head when he thrust deep inside her.

One hand massaged her breast and the other snuck between them where they were joined and played with her clitoris. Hermione unraveled with an inhuman scream, her pussy squeezing his cock until he felt like he'd burst.

She vaguely remembered the warmth of his seed coursing through her womb, filling her to the brim. Her body felt like a cloud, her extremities tingling slightly with the force of her orgasm. Hermione nearly cried when he pulled out of her, the loss felt so great. Part of her knew she'd become too attached, but she couldn't help it in her haze.

“Don’t worry,” Draco purred in her ear, pressing kisses into her hairline. “I’ll last longer next time.”

She giggled. “Draco… That was… amazing. I wish I could come up with a better adjective but I'm too exhausted!”

“I managed to render Hermione Granger incapable of complex thought? I really am good,” he smirked into her curls. Draco didn't think he'd mind being suffocated by her massive amount of hair.

Hermione gave a spirited “ha!" that tapered off with a yawn. She curled into his chest, using his bulging pectoral muscle as a pillow. “I don't suppose you'd mind if I stayed over?”

She felt the chuckle rumbling in his chest before she heard it. “I'd prefer if you would, actually. Gives me more time to impress you,” he purred, his fingers grazing her thigh. Hermione knew she wouldn’t be getting more than an hour of two or sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't super sure how this smutty scene read, but hopefully you enjoy it! There's more to come and probably some fluff too. Apologies that this is a slightly shorter chapter than usual, but I wanted to update at least one of my current works weekly, so I'm switching off each week between my each of my Dramione works (Manor of Conception, Past Transgressions, this one and also working on a new one that's not posted!)


	6. Losing Count

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very smutty Dramione chapter with bits of fluff. Since I'm a few days late in posting, please accept this as my apology!

Draco didn’t think he could be any harder than he was now with Hermione whimpering and riding his cock, her hands pressing into his pecs to hold herself up. She was so slick, her juices allowing her to slide easily up and down and back and forth on him. His hands alternated between gripping her hips and her ass cheeks.

He moaned when his hand slipped into the crevice between her luscious cheeks and felt her cum dripping down to her puckered hole. In the moment, Draco took a chance and rubbed a finger around the rim of her arsehole. Hermione’s eyes opened in shock but she keened in pleasure and bucked her hips harder.

“Fuck, that’s sexy!” he said hoarsely. When he rimmed her again, he felt her come apart for the fourth time that night. Her juices soaked him, squeezing his cock like a vice. Draco had to think about Voldemort’s feet just to keep from losing himself inside her.

She collapsed against his chest, her breathing ragged, unable to hold herself up. Hermione hadn’t had this many orgasms with a man ever, let alone in one night! She felt exhausted, but she didn’t want his hardness to leave her womb empty. When he started thrusting up into her, she couldn’t help but ground down into him, her clit rubbing deliciously against his pelvic bone.

Hermione felt another peak building as he helped her ride him from beneath. “Don’t...stop.. Draco!” she mewled into his neck.

“Never,” he breathed. “I wish I could never stop making you cum.” Draco was holding back his own release and now it was becoming painful. His balls felt bruised from the effort.

Effortlessly, he flipped them over so he was on top, pounding mercilessly into her. He could feel her womb starting to flutter around him. Her nails dug into his shoulders and down his back. Her feet rested on his lower back as if to keep him inside her, urging him to stay into her wet heat.

Her fifth orgasm seized her and she said, “Cum with me, Draco!”

Draco let himself back into the moment, overwhelming himself with the sensation of her slick insides swallowing him whole. A few more bone-jarring thrusts sent him over the edge. He called out her name as he pumped his seed into her.

After a second of post-orgasmic bliss, he tried to move away so he wouldn’t be resting his entire weight on Hermione, but she seemed to hold him on top of her with her legs and arms, his softening cock still deep inside her. She lazily kissed along his neck and shoulder.

Draco Malfoy was in heaven. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this, but he could die happy at this moment. This was another moment he could use for his patronus.

Hermione whined as he turned them onto their sides, but after he remained inside her, she buried her face into his chest. Now they were a pile of tangled limbs on his bed, sated and too exhausted to move.

She traced the outlines of his chiseled abdomen and suddenly remembered what had started and led up to the best sex of her life. A giggle escaped her lips. Draco smiled against her curls.

“I love the sound of your laugh, Hermione,” he drawled.

“I was just thinking about how these abs were what began all this.” She prodded him gently in the ribs.

He chucked groggily. “I suppose that’s true. Although, I think it was a long time coming, really.”

“For you, yes. For me, surprisingly, my attraction to you was very shallow. Plus, Ginny pointed out that I’ve always mooned over Quidditch players.”

“Aye, that’s true. Krum, McLaggen, the Weasel, and now me,” he teased. “I have to ask, did I live up to the fantasy you created when you fingered yourself to my picture?”

She blushed even though he couldn’t see it and he was still inside her. “As much as I hate to admit it, that was the most times I’ve ever cum in one night. And, for the record, I was never into McLaggen.”

“High praise and insulting that git in one sentence? You are the perfect witch!”

Hermione chuckled as he attacked her neck with kisses and nips. He slipped out of her as he nibbled on her collarbone, his hands massaging her breasts. She moaned as her nipples stood to his attention. His tongue teased one lightly, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. That teasing earned him a breathy “fuck” and her arching into his mouth.

He engulfed the nipple he’d only pinched in his mouth and started suckling. A string of expletives left his witch’s mouth. Her hips ground into his leg as he warmed the other nipple in his palm. His other hand snuck down between her legs. He gathered their combined juices and rubbed her engorged clit.

“Draco!” she cried as her eyes rolled back into her head at the quick build of her sixth orgasm, which felt like lightning spreading throughout her body.

“Are you coming for me again, Hermione? Fuck, I love how sensitive you are. That turns me on so much, you have no idea!”

As she went limp from her release, Hermione couldn’t help but hope this could be every day together, their every night together. She’d enjoyed sex before, but with Draco it was magical, truly.

They fell asleep, wrapped in one another’s limbs. The early morning sun was barely peeking through the window when Hermione’s eyes opened from a heavy sleep. Her muscles felt sore yet loose and there was a dull yet pleasurable ache in her pussy. Their combined cum was half-dried on her legs. She needed to wash to feel any semblance of cleanliness after their very dirty night.

However, she couldn’t get up without waking Draco. His face looked angelic and statuesque in the morning haze. He was a beautiful man, that was for sure. Not to mention his other generous assets.

“You awake, princess?” he croaked.

“Mmmhm. I was considering a shower or bath.” She squealed as he moved faster than she thought possible after just waking up and scooped her into his arms.

Her Adonis carried her to the ensuite bathroom, which was twice the size of her and Ginny’s flat. There was a giant bath or pool, really, that with a flick of Draco’s hand started to fill from a dozen taps.

He waded into the bath with her. She could smell lavender and coconut rising from the steam. All she wanted to do was float in the warmth of Draco and his bathtub.

With an ounce of effort, Hermione conjured a washcloth to wipe the seed from her thighs. She bit back a groan at the roughness of the cloth on her sensitive areas. Draco watched her bathe with hooded eyes, his hair now wet from dunking his head.

“You like to watch me, don't you?" she murmured.

His lips quirked into a lascivious smile. "Not as much as I like touching you, gorgeous."

Hermione moaned as his fingers reached her hips and pulled her flush against him. His insatiable cock was pressed into her flat stomach and dug into her when she rolled her hips into his. He hissed at the slippery contact.

Spinning her around, Draco's erection dug into her lower back. She sank her hips back into him, her arse cheeks rubbing around his thick shaft. He growled and bucked into her, their bodies sliding perfectly against one another.

“This is what you do to me, Hermione. Can you take me again? I need to be inside you,” he purred into her ear.

"Fuck… yes, Draco! Please fuck me again," she begged, her hands resting on the edge of the pool. With her leaning over, she was in the perfect position for him to take her from behind.

Even in the water Draco could feel her ready for him as the head of his cock lined up with her pussy lips. They moaned in unison as he slid inside her. She felt a little sore but that was replaced with pure bliss as he rocked inside her. This angle was much deeper and she felt like she'd burst at any second.

He had to control himself so as to not pound into her mercilessly like he wanted to. When she pressed her arse back into him, not wanting his cock to pull out, Draco lost it. One hand on her hip, the other squeezed her breast, his thrusts became faster and faster, harder and harder.

She was sobbing, so close to another orgasm. As his hips snapped into her, causing waves in the bath, Hermione gave a shrill cry and he followed her over the edge.

Both losing their footing, Draco pulled her down to the seat along the edge, keeping his deflating cock inside her. She squirmed on his lap and he growled against her damp curls.

“I can't get enough of you, witch," he rasped. She hummed in response and snuggled into his chest and basked in the warm water.

Easily lifting the wet, boneless woman out of the bath, Draco wrapped them both in fluffy white robes and brought her back to the bed. Hermione protested groggily as he pulled the blanket over her. He didn’t want to leave, but he had to check on their brunch -- explaining what the combination of breakfast and lunch was to the house elves was like trying to free them. They wanted double the work, not for their master to simplify it.

Once again, Hermione woke up completely sated, her muscles aching dully and yet feeling loose at the same time. This time Draco was nowhere in sight. Pulling her robe tight around her, she found a pair of matching terry cotton slippers near the bathroom door. A gurgling sound from her stomach broke the silence in the room. Should she wander down to the kitchen? She supposed she could call one of the elves, but she didn’t quite feel right giving them orders, even if they were paid.

Just when she was about to make up her mind to wander the manor, a silvery lioness bounded through the closed bedroom door. The large cat wound its way around her feet and then opened its mouth with Draco’s voice.

“Good morning, love! I had a business call with China this morning, otherwise, we would have never left the bedroom. I’ll meet you in the parlor where brunch is awaiting you. My patronus will lead you there.”

A thrill shot through her core at Draco’s cheekiness as she followed the languid lioness down to the parlor. It was only then, thinking about his business call, that she remembered that it was Monday morning and she was supposed to be at work!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to post an update to at least one of my WIPs (Past Transgressions, Manor of Conception, and Wicked Wizards) every Friday. I'm also working on another Dramione fic that hasn't been posted so please bear with me and leave comments! Next week's update will be for Manor of Conception! Thanks for reading (and I own nothing but the plot).


	7. Ghastly Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets ready for work before a startling development appears, literally. She has a real conversation with Draco and their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this ending doesn't seem too sudden, but I honestly didn't envision too much beyond their relationship's beginning. I thought Chapter 7, a lucky number, was a good way to end it. Perhaps I'll make an epilogue if I get enough comments demanding another chapter. Please let me know what you think! Thanks so much for reading!

If Hermione had clocked her time to get ready that morning, it would be the slowest. Her clothes were all over Draco’s bedroom, her wand was buried under a blanket, and her hair took almost 15 minutes to untangle magically. She scrambled down the stairs after the lioness patronus waited so patiently for her.

She'd made up her mind to grab something like a scone and a banana off the brunch table, but when she reached the landing, Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. There, standing in the spacious marble foyer, examining the bust of Lucius Malfoy, was Narcissa Malfoy's ghost. If she'd been any less of a Gryffindor, Hermione would have screamed. The apparition didn't seem to notice her or Draco's patronus, so she kept following the lioness, her feet feeling as heavy as lead.

Hermione's heart was still thundering when she reached the parlor where Draco sat reading the Daily Prophet. He showed her a toothy grin until he lowered the paper completely.

“Good morning, love! What's wrong, you look like you've seen--"

"A ghost?” she finished for him. "Why actually, I have. I ran into your mother's ghost in the bloody foyer! Why didn't you warn me?”

“I-I erm..." he stammered. She hadn't seen him this perplexed before. Draco opened and shut his mouth once more and then launched himself from the chair and passed Hermione like a man possessed.

“Mother!" He called desperately as his footsteps echoed on the marble floor.

Hermione followed him but stood off to the side, partially hidden by a pillar, to watch the scene unfold. Narcissa turned around at her son's cry.

The apparition floated over him and tried to embrace him, but it didn't work as she passed right through his corporeal body. Hermione could tell from his slumped shoulders that he was disappointed and stricken by her ghostly presence. She swallowed thickly at the embarrassment of yelling at him about something he clearly didn't know.

“How are you here… now… It's been years…” Draco said brokenly.

She saw Narcissa smile sadly. “My dear son, it's nothing to do with me. It must be something to do with you. Has something changed in your life?”

He sniffled before he turned slightly to where Hermione was hiding and held out his hand for her to join him. “Please come out, Hermione,” he asked her gently. It was a request she was both nervous and excited to comply with.

Draco laced their fingers together and Hermione blushed under the scrutiny of his mother. Somehow, Narcissa didn’t look surprised. The ghost’s smile was kind towards her.

“Miss Granger, it’s lovely to officially meet you.”

“Erm, yes, Mrs. Malfoy. It’s all my pleasure,” she managed to say politely.

His mother’s figure nodded. “Please call me Narcissa, dear.”

“Then, you should call me, Hermione.” She squeezed Draco’s hand lightly and he gave her a watery grin.

“I still don’t understand, Mother. You said it was something that changed in my life that brought you back?”

“My darling son, becoming a ghost, as far as I understand it, is based on having unfinished business. Well, if you’re in a relationship, especially a serious one, magic could have brought me back to witness your happiness with your new partner.”

The couple flinched as Narcissa said the word “serious.” Clearly, they needed to talk about where they stood. Her relationship with Draco had progressed quickly, far faster than her other ones, and she wasn’t sure how to feel yet. Hermione just knew she was happy with where they were at, even if she didn’t quite know what that meant.

Narcissa pursed her lips and said, “I see that you may have some details to discuss. I will leave you two and peruse the library.”

Draco looked torn as his mother floated away and Hermione licked her lips nervously at his side. While he hadn't seen her in a while, he knew his mother could wait. She hopefully wouldn't disappear as randomly as she appeared. Besides, if his relationship with Hermione had anything to do with his mother's presence, Draco must attend to his witch first.

“Why don’t we return to the parlor to talk and have the brunch that Mitzy and Bonny fixed for us?” he suggested.

Hermione nodded numbly and followed him, a bit distracted by the thoughts buzzing around her brain like Cornish pixies. Unfortunately, she couldn’t cast an _immobulus_ on her mind like she had when Lockhart had given up on wrangling the pixies he’d set loose during the DADA. It was frustrating.

Draco noticed how introspective she was and tried to get her to open up. Placing a crepe with raspberry filling on her place and pouring her some tea, he laid a hand gently on her shoulder to urge her to look at him. Her eyes unclouded when she saw his intent stare.

“Love, I know it sounds mental to ask, but what’s on your mind? Can you talk to me about it?”

She wanted to talk, oh did she want to spill the contents of her mind and let it all go, but she was afraid it wouldn’t come out right. That Draco wouldn’t understand what she was saying. It was a time to be brave, to summon her Gryffindor courage.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione started talking: “Draco, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know about your mum’s ghost not being here before and accusing you of hiding her from me. I’m sorry for hiding and hopefully, I interacted with Narcissa appropriately. I’m sorry for apologizing so much because I know you don’t mind all that, really, I hope. And oh, Merlin’s beard, I’m very very late for work!”

She knew she was rambling and fidgeting and now she was freaking out about work and her boss. Part of her quaking soul quelled when his palm cupped her jaw and his thumb stroked her cheek. Draco was grinning at her, almost giddily. Her brows furrowed, thinking he might be laughing at the preposterousness that was a flustered Hermione Granger.

“My dear Hermione. Thank you for letting me into your mind. It makes me happier than you’ll ever know when you give yourself to me.” She had the audacity to blush at those last words.

“Let me assuage your worries one by one. There’s nothing to forgive because you handled all of that as well as you couldn’t be expected to. I wish I didn’t have to put you in such an awkward situation, but here we are. As for the Ministry, I sent an owl to your boss saying that you would be in the office in the afternoon after we finished drawing up the contract outlining the terms of the grant I’m donating to fund your cases after you presented extremely thorough and convincing proposals this weekend.”

His devilish smile made it known that he was quite pleased with himself for “solving” all her problems. Hermione pursed her lips, collecting her thoughts, thinking through her reaction, for once, before it burst through.

“You told my boss what?!” The color drained further from his pale face at her yell. “Draco, I can’t believe you did that! For one, it’s a complete lie, two it seems like I’ve been whoring myself out to you, especially if this relationship is going anywhere, which we still have to talk about, but now you’ve gone and affected my job. Can you not stick your fingers into everything for once!”

In the middle of her rant, Hermione had stood up and started pacing back and forth. Now, she stood in front of Draco with her arms across her chest, foot tapping against the polished wood flooring. He looked like a deer in headlights, an expression her father used.

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” he said after a moment with a deflated sigh. “Let me ask you this, though: No matter the outcome, do you believe that I sincerely thought that I was helping you by sending that letter?”

She blinked a few times at that, mulling it over. Draco sat on the edge of his seat, hanging on the silence, waiting for her verdict. Hermione realized how much power she had over this wizard, the boy who used to make her life a living hell. Part of her relished it, but part of her knew that the power should be more equal.

Hermione sighed. “Draco, I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt me. I know you feel deeply about me, that you love me, but I don’t think it’s fair--”

“Fair? What--” he interjected but she cut him off.

“I don’t think it’s fair for me to lord your love over you. I don’t want to wield it like the elder wand, all-powerful, which you have no chance to defend yourself against.”

Draco pursed his lips and took her hand in his, sandwiching it between his larger ones. Shining silver met honeyed brown when their eyes met. She smiled shyly at him; his intensity was intimidating, even to her Gryffindor spirit.

“Hermione, frankly, I know you won’t abuse my love for you. That’s why I’m giving it so freely. Even if you did, I don’t think my tortured soul would care. The fact that you’ve even given me the time of day thrills me to no end after all that’s happened.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. Something about this wizard affected her, made her think outside of her rational mind. She had to think emotionally, deeply, and delve inside her heart.

“I’m flattered, really, but maybe we should take this a day at a time, you know? Which brings me to the fact that I have to go to work. Speaking of, where is the--”

Draco, with the pure Malfoy smirk, grabbed a scroll of the bookshelf behind him and placed it in front of her. Hermione raised an eyebrow and unrolled it. She skimmed the contents and saw the monetary amount and her jaw dropped.

“Draco… How can you afford--” he put his hand up to halt her berating.

“I would have donated the same amount no matter if you’d agreed to come to dinner or not. What I have done recently and what I do in the future will all be for your benefit. I won’t have it any other way.”

Hermione blinked away her tears at his admission, his purpose.

“This isn’t going to be easy… with me, you know.”

Draco nodded and then captured her lips with his, hoping she’d kiss him back for the rest of his days. Hermione wished this kiss would last forever, no matter the consequences.


End file.
